


Bathrooms

by JamieLynnVanceMalfoy1, Megalodont



Category: Divergent - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9463367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieLynnVanceMalfoy1/pseuds/JamieLynnVanceMalfoy1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megalodont/pseuds/Megalodont





	

Incredibly sexually explicit. Read at your own risk!

"Hey Eric?"

Eric jerked his head in my direction. He'd been talking to other trainers. "What do you want, Stiff?" he demanded.

"Where's the nearest bathroom?" I asked. I hoped my politeness didn't come across as cowardice.

"Use the ones in the dorms."

"But I really have to go. And the dorms are so far."

"Fine. Use the one upstairs," he pointed absentmindedly in that direction, "And don't bother me again."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, whatever." Eric turned away and resumed his conversation with the other trainers.

I walked up the creaky steps and saw a door with a sign that read "UNISEX BATHROOM - TRAINERS ONLY." I sighed. Dauntless have a thing for unisex bathrooms, I mused. I reached out and opened the unlocked door, only to find Peter Hayes (of all people) sitting on the toilet and masturbating.

"Oh, shit," I said involuntarily. I immediately turned on my heel to walk out of the bathroom.

Fucking Hell. He's big.

"Jesus Christ! You want to try knocking next time?" Peter yelled, putting his package back in his pants.

"Excuse me, you think I planned to walk in on you? I don't enjoy watching you fuck yourself," I spat, more angrily than I meant to.

"Watch your language, Stiff." Peter stood up at this point, and I couldn't ignore the devilish grin that played on his face.

"What," I said stepping forward, showing my authority. "I can swear if I want to, asshole."

"Ooh. You think you're so tough, don't you? I'm not going to lie, it's pretty cute," Peter laughed. "It's like watching a five year old puff up her tiny chest."

"I'm sorry, but did you jump into the pit first? I don't think so."

"Well in case you needed reminding, I kicked your pretty little ass in that match the other day."

My face burned. "God, you're so fucking concieted. I'm leaving. You can go back to jacking off now, you piece of shit." I was fuming, so angry that when I went to open the door, I pulled the knob right off.

"Shit!" I swore.

Peter sat down on the toilet and turned in my direction. "Didn't you say you were leaving, sweetheart?" He flashed me a smug grin and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Well, looks like I can't." I turned around and showed him the doorknob in my hand.

His smug expression faded, and was replaced with an angry one

"What the fuck did you do!?" He shouted at me.

"God knows how old this bathroom is," I shot, "It's not necessarily my fault."

"It is completely your fault."

"Well that doesn't change the fact that we're stuck here together," I snapped. I slowly sunk to the floor while Peter remained on the toilet, rubbing his face into his hands.

"Fucking perfect. Great job, Tris," he said, his voice laden with sarcasm. Peter stood up and started pacing up and down the small room.

"Would you calm down? I hate you as much as you hate me, but you don't see losing my shit." I sighed and fiddled with the doorknob.

"Kindly fuck you, Stiff."

"You could at least try being pleasant."

"Pleasant?" he scoffed. "You're the one that got us into this mess in the first place."

"Look, maybe if I scream and bang on the door hard enough, someone will find us," I say, starting to stand up.

"Are you fucking nuts? Dauntless don't depend on other people to get them out of tough situations. We can't show any weakness—do you want to give our trainers a reason to cut us? Because I sure as hell don't want to end up factionless!"

"Well, I'm fucking sorry!" I threw my hands up in the air and turned around. Even though I was facing the door, I could feel Peter's eyes burn into the back of my skull. In spite of how angry I was, I couldn't deny that I was somewhat enjoying how heated this was getting. As if arguing with Peter brought me some twisted satisfaction.

"I'm the one who should be fucking sorry."

I heard that wrong. That definitely didn't just come out of his mouth.

"You know what, fuck it—I'm sorry, okay? I fucking tried to rape you, and murder you, so there, I said it—I'm sorry, Tris," Peter said, his voice rising. All the while he moved closer and closer to me. "I'm sorry for being such an asshole, and I'm sorry that you're in this fucking mess with me right now. Are you fucking happy now?"

That anger I was just talking about? The satisfaction I got from the heat of this conversation?

I wasn't done with it just yet.

"You're a lying prick and an evil son of a bitch. You know that, right!?" I yelled right back at him. Because, God, I hated Peter. I hated him with every ounce in my soul.

Which is why I know I'm going to regret what I'm about to do.

Before I could think too much about it, I crashed my mouth into his, and I kissed him breathless. I moved my lips against his seamlessly, until his initial shock wore off.

Peter quickly let go, catching his breath.

I searched his expression, and came up dumbfounded. I couldn't place it for the life of me.

"Is it wrong that I want to pin you against this wall and fuck you dry?"

I didn't even hesitate. I grabbed his neck and pulled his ear to my mouth. "Is it wrong that I want you to pin me against a wall and fuck me dry?"

Tris. What the fuck are you doing.

I don't have enough time to think about it. Once the words have escaped my mouth, his lips are pressed back up against mine. I resist the only logic I have left, the part of my brain that's going, this is a bad idea, you're going to regret this—I listen only to the raging fire I feel inside of my veins. I listen to the other, louder voice in my head, the one that's going, I want him. And I want him right now.

And, God, did Peter Hayes want me back.

He didn't waste any time backing me up against the bathroom wall. His kisses became rougher than before, and I found myself reveling in it. His hands left my neck and travelled down my arms, down my chest, and paused only to graze over my breasts. It didn't feel like before, at the chasm—I didn't feel like a caged animal, or like my body was used against my will. So when he lightly reached underneath my shirt and caressed the skin beneath my bra, I grabbed him by his hair and jerked his head back.

"No," I demanded. "Don't you dare be gentle with me." I dug my nails into his scalp, and he winced in pain. "I don't want gentle."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" he breathed against my lips.

He crashed his lips back against mine, and ran his hands across my chest. His touch was much rougher this time, and all I could think of was, yes, finally.

Because truth be told, I'd been wanting Peter Hayes for some time now.

It would happen in the most random, unexplainable moments—he'd throw an insult in my direction, I'd walk past him at the training center, and then my panties would suddenly become wet with lust. I was angry with myself at first (God was I angry), but after a while I just gave in. Whatever, I figured as I'd rub my hands against my warmth, pleasuring myself in the midst of my confusion. Peter wasn't the only one guilty of bathroom masturbation—I'd done it on more than a few occasions. It's just a fantasy. It's not like I want the real Peter. This is harmless.

I snapped back to the present moment, where the real Peter had moved his hands to the zipper of my jeans.

Guess it wasn't so harmless after all.

He seamlessly worked the fabric off of my body, and then reached for the band of my panties. My breath hitched as he slipped two fingers into of me and started to pump them in and out. I clutched onto him in desperation, and bit my lip as I tried not to scream out.

We heard footsteps from outside the door, and it caused him to pause abruptly.

We held our breath for a moment, and remained completely still and silent. Oh Jesus, I thought, panic rising in my throat. That could be anyone—Will, Christina, Eric, Four. Anyone could walk in right now, only to find Peter with his hands on my completely exposed clit.

But the footsteps walked right past us, and then disappeared entirely. This gave Peter a minute to look me in the eye, and for the two of us to just kind of stare at each other.

What the fuck are we doing.

"I was thinking of you earlier, you know," he said evenly.

I couldn't think of any reply to that, so I just crashed my lips back against his.

At least I knew that this went both ways. At least I knew that the sexual tension between us wasn't just a figment of my imagination, and that it was present for both of us. I helped him work the tank top off of my body, and then he proceeded to unhook my bra in one clumsy, uncoordinated swoop. I reached for the buckle of his pants as he ripped off his tank top, and I was just about ready to jump out of my skin when my hands came into contact with his oversized, fully erect member.

Are we really going to do this right now?

"I think there are condoms under the sink," he breathed.

"Then go get one," I snapped.

He didn't waste any time. He reached over, opened the medicine drawer, and grabbed a Trojan packet. He ripped open the bright blue packaging, and hastily worked the latex onto his package. And all the while, I searched myself for any sign of guilt, of regret, of hatred, anything—but it was all shrouded by the lust I felt inside of me.

So there we stood, stark naked and sweaty in the middle of the unisex bathroom. He closed the space between us, and started to kiss my lips, my neck, my chest, everywhere. And just as I was starting to enjoy myself, he turned me around and slammed me face-first into the wall. I bit my lip and resisted any involuntary screaming, because God, did having his hands on me feel good.

I placed both of my hands against the wall. He leaned in and whispered, "Just say the word, Beatrice." And there was something so, so incredibly wrong about hearing the way my full name rolled off of his tongue, that it felt so right.

"Now," I demanded.

He didn't waste a second. He entered me so quickly and so roughly that I couldn't help the involuntary gasp as it escaped from my mouth. Oh my god, I thought to myself. So this is what sex feels like.

He thrust deep inside of me, so deep that I cried out. "Fuck, Peter," I breathed, and it only made him thrust harder and faster. He kissed my neck and screwed me as if he was trying to screw me to oblivion. I was thinking of you earlier, you know. I wondered how long he'd wanted the same thing, and how long he'd wished for an opportunity like this to arise. It was as if our most dangerous, sinful sex wishes had been granted. As if we were acting upon our most violent delights.

Judging by how sweaty he'd become and how loud his panting had gotten, I could tell that he was enjoying himself too. It also helped that I wasn't the only one who was crying out. "You feel so fucking good, Tris," he whispered against my ear. Hearing those words made shivers travel up and down my spine, and it took every ounce of willpower that I had not to lose it then and there.

I thought of that night at the chasm, when he'd tried to kill me. I thought of the fear I'd felt then, and the violation I'd felt when he'd touched me. The fact that I was letting him have my body now didn't make me feel weak, not in the slightest. If anything, I felt liberated. I felt like I was in control now. Peter Hayes answered to me, and it was his turn to be at my mercy.

"You don't get to come until I tell you to," I said, as levelly as possible. "You're mine now, Peter."

He responded by crashing his lips against mine and spinning me back around. He hoisted my up by the ass, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. My back was pinned against the wall as he continued to thrust inwards and outwards. God, am I going to be sore tomorrow, I thought. But I didn't care. I was enjoying myself far too much.

I knew he was about to come when his rhythm started to become sloppy. But I wasn't ready yet, and I made that much clear. "No. You need to wait for me," I demanded.

"Damn girl," he breathed. "You're working me, I'll tell you that."

But I didn't care if I caused Peter any immediate discomfort. Consider this revenge for the other night, Hayes. I thrust my hips backwards and forwards, only to heighten his sensitivity. He cringed and bit his lip, and managed to successfully suppress a climax. I was milking him for all that he was worth, and I was reveling in it.

Peter Hayes. My enemy. My torturer. My fuck buddy.

It was a strange thought to think as I was about to come, and yet for some reason, that was at the forefront of my mind. My enemy, my torturer, my fuck buddy. What a twisted pair we made—whoever would've guess that our secret sexual cravings would've been for each other? It certainly seemed unbelievable. And yet there we were, close to an hour into the steamiest sexscapade I'm sure either of us had ever had—at least up until that point.

When the moment finally came, I decided that I wasn't going to be quiet about it. "Fuck, oh my God, Peter." And he reacted the same way. He kept repeating my name, almost as if it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. It felt like blinding Technicolor as we rode the same wave of pleasure at the exact same moment. We slumped to the ground almost immediately thereafter, the room thick with the sounds of our panting.

Neither of us said a word. We simply lay on the tiled floor, my head nestled into his chest.

"I'm sorry I interrupted your masturbation session," I said finally.

He let out a throaty laugh. "This was better, believe me. Nothing compares to the real thing."

"I have one question for you though."

"Okay, shoot."

I glanced in his direction. "Was I really the object of your sexual fantasies?"

"Oh, hell yeah." He reached forward and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "C'mon, Tris. There's something about your doe-eyed, holier-than-thou Abnegation attitude that I've always wanted to ravish."

"Well, the sexual tension went both ways."

"For real?"

"Yes." I shot him a glare. "And don't you dare ever tell anyone."

He snorted. "You really think I want anyone to know about this?" He motioned from me to him. "The judgment we'd receive would be through the roof."

"Good. So this little romp is between the two of us, agreed?"

"Absolutely." He leaned forward to kiss me. I accepted. As he pulled away, he asked, "Can I expect to do this again?"

"I don't know, Hayes—would you want to?"

He snorted. "You're kidding, right?"

"Then yeah, sure. That was too good to have this be a one time thing." I jerked my head in the direction of the door. "There's only one problem, though."

"Really? What's that?"

"We still haven't figured out how to get out of this bathroom."

"…"

"Oh for fuck's sake."


End file.
